Poet Henry Newbolt

Henry Newbolt

Henry Newbolt Poems

  • 51.  
    Ladies, where were your bright eyes glancing,
    Where were they glancing yester-night?Saw ye Imogen dancing, dancing,
  • 52.  
    O Lord Almighty, Thou whose hands
    Despair and victory give;In whom, though tyrants tread their lands,
  • 53.  
    “Hark ye, hark to the winding horn;
    Sluggards, awake, and front the morn!Hark ye, hark to the winding horn;
  • 54.  
    After long labouring in the windy ways,
    On smooth and shining tides Swiftly the great ship glides,
  • 55.  
    In seventeen hundred and fifty-nine,
    When Hawke came swooping from the West,The French King's Admiral with twenty of the line,
  • 56.  
    Riding at dawn, riding alone,
    Gillespie left the town behind;Before he turned by the Westward road
  • 57.  
    Memories long in music sleeping,
    No more sleeping, No more dumb;
  • 58.  
    O Son of mine, when dusk shall find thee bending
    Between a gravestone and a cradle's head--Between the love whose name is loss unending
  • 59.  
    Lover of England, stand awhile and gaze
    With thankful heart, and lips refrained from praise;They rest beyond the speech of human pride
  • 60.  
    The Squire sat propped in a pillowed chair,
    His eyes were alive and clear of care,But well he knew that the hour was come
  • 61.  
    To-day, my friend is seventy-five;
    He tells his tale with no regret; His brave old eyes are steadfast yet,
  • 62.  
    Praise thou with praise unending,
    The Master of the Wine;To all their portions sending
  • 63.  
    Drake he's in his hammock an' a thousand miles away,
    (Capten, art tha sleepin' there below?)Slung atween the round shot in Nombre Dios Bay,
  • 64.  
    (Mobile Bay, 1864)

  • 65.  
    I sat by the granite pillar, and sunlight fell
    Where the sunlight fell of old,And the hour was the hour my heart remembered well,
  • 66.  
    This is the Chapel: here, my son,
    Your father thought the thoughts of youth,And heard the words that one by one
  • 67.  
    By the hearth-stone
    She sits alone, The long night bearing:
  • 68.  
    I cannot tell, of twain beneath this bond,
    Which one in grief the other goes beyond,--Narcissus, who to end the pain he bore
  • 69.  
    Lad, and can you rest now,
    There beneath your hill!Your hands are on your breast now,
  • 70.  
    She is a lady fair and wise,
    Her heart her counsel keeps,And well she knows of time that flies
  • 71.  
    Effingham, Grenville, Raleigh, Drake,
    Here's to the bold and free!Benbow, Collingwood, Byron, Blake,
  • 72.  
    Boys, are ye calling a toast to-night?
    (Hear what the sea-wind saith)Fill for a bumper strong and bright,
  • 73.  
    With sanguine looks
    And rolling walkAmong the rooks
  • 74.  
    The Forest above and the Combe below,
    On a bright September morn!He's the soul of a clod who thanks not God
  • 75.  
    It fell in the year of Mutiny,
    At darkest of the night,John Nicholson by Jalandhar came,
  • 76.  
    “Ye have robbed,” said he, “ye have slaughtered and made an end,
    Take your ill-got plunder, and bury the dead:What will ye more of your guest and sometime friend?”
Total 76 poems written by Henry Newbolt

Poem of the day

Charles Hamilton Sorley Poem
To Germany
 by Charles Hamilton Sorley

You are blind like us. Your hurt no man designed,
And no man claimed the conquest of your land.
But gropers both through fields of thought confined
We stumble and we do not understand.
You only saw your future bigly planned,
And we, the tapering paths of our own mind,
And in each others dearest ways we stand,
And hiss and hate. And the blind fight the blind.

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